


It All Begins When...

by plumeria47



Category: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston
Genre: Coming of Age, M/M, POV Henry, Reminiscing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:35:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23933917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plumeria47/pseuds/plumeria47
Summary: Prince Henry's relationship with Alex has had many beginnings, but there's only one that matters.
Relationships: Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor
Comments: 36
Kudos: 147





	It All Begins When...

**Author's Note:**

> Written on the fly for 2020's Take a Leap challenge at [Story_Works](https://story-works.dreamwidth.org/) on DW. I only finished reading the book last week, and have been drowning in all the Feels.
> 
> Unbetaed, and my first-ever fic for this fandom. Apologies if I messed something up.

He’s nineteen when it begins.

No, that’s not right. He’s _fourteen_ when it begins, when he finally admits to himself that his itchy desire for boys isn’t going away and that he’s always, _always_ faking interest when his friends at Eton go off about celebrity girls they like. 

He's sixteen when he begins dating, old enough to be seen out getting lunch with a girl, but not yet expected to be finding a wife. Still, he knows people are waiting, watching to see when he’ll start with girls, just as they did with Phillip a few years ago, and so he begins, just to shut them up. Phillip, ever dutiful, has had a few girlfriends at uni, nothing serious, but he _seems_ to enjoy their company, at least. Bea has had a little less pressure on her, since she’s unlikely to rule, and therefore less likely to need heirs. It will be expected for her to marry and have children anyway, of course, but she can take her time. There’s much less breathing room for him and Phillip. So Henry finds the mildest girls he can, strikes up some awkward conversations, exchanges some awkward kisses and ends it after a few weeks or months. What else is he supposed to do?

At seventeen, he begins kissing boys. Or rather, he is kissed _by_ a boy. Hilariously, it’s one of Phillip’s mates from uni; Henry knows he’s been included in the gathering because his brother feels responsible for him, especially with their father being so ill, and despairs of him ever making friends on his own. He goes reluctantly, not expecting another boy to be making covert eyes at him from across the pub table, and not expecting to be pulled quickly into the dark alley behind the pub when they all leave, and kissed breathless. They steal little moments like this on the rare times they meet again, but it never goes anywhere. Still, those stolen kisses confirm for Henry what he’s already known for nearly four years: he’s gay, all right.

His sex life begins at eighteen. Yep, he’s definitely still gay. But he’s also learning how painful it can be: pursued just for being royal by people who are little interested in Henry as a person – especially when they must sign NDAs for the right to give said person a blowjob. The girls never mattered to him. The boys do. Henry is still depressed and angry about his father’s death, and he finds it’s honestly just easier to be a jerk, to turn himself off, to expend almost no emotional energy at all. It’s just physical, and that’s fine. He’s _fine._ And he’s too busy trying to keep his sister from destroying herself to think about other relationships. Besides, it’s not like he’ll ever be allowed to fall in love, anyway. 

But nineteen is where it really starts. Where he sees confidence, bold and yet casual, taken for granted, paraded in front of him as if to remind him what he’ll never have. And it has to come in a pretty package: tanned skin, bright, lively brown eyes and short dark curls, their owner cheerfully introducing himself as Alex Claremont-Diaz (as if Henry hasn’t seen any of the press about the woman running for president and her impossibly beautiful children). Henry clasps Alex’s hand automatically, but the warmth and strength of that grip, the thousand-watt smile up close – it’s too much for Henry to process. He needs to get out of there, so he turns to Shaan and mutters, “Get rid of him for me.”

Unfortunately that seems to backfire, because whenever he and Alex are thrust together for the next four years – because of _course_ Ellen Claremont wins the election – as youthful representatives of their respective nations, Alex seems to make it a point to be a thorn in Henry’s side. And it’s not like Henry can get rid of him when they’re both _supposed_ to be at the event. The best he can do is try to stay on the opposite side of whatever room they’re in, and engage as many _non-_ Alex people in conversation as possible. Avoiding Alex becomes a full-time occupation. It’s exhausting. Especially as, if he’s being honest, Henry has developed a little bit of a crush on the handsome First Son. Ok, more than a little crush. He wonders sometimes why his brain insists on torturing him – why can’t he have a crush on someone with _manners_? 

By the time Henry is twenty-two and there’s wedding cake crashing down all around him – and Alex – he would dearly love to live in a world that Alex Claremont-Diaz is not part of, just to regain some sanity. Intensely liking _and_ hating someone at the same time is killing him. But of course, the universe has never been kind to him – why should it start now? He is _ordered_ to make nice with Alex in front of the press for an entire _weekend_ , and it’s almost more than Henry can stand, especially after he ends up sprawled on the ground, tangled up in Alex’s body for the second time in a matter of days. There is no room to get away in the supply closet, however, so all he can do is hunch in on himself, make himself as small as possible. 

But Alex does not go away. In fact, Alex starts to show some signs of humanity. He asks questions that are personal but not rude. He is awake at odd hours, just like Henry is. He wears _glasses_ when he thinks nobody will see. 

Alex’s insufferable berating turns into playful banter through their texts.

He phones about terrifying turkeys in the middle of the night. 

He talks about his studies, his family, his life.

And Henry knows he’s in trouble, because now he not only has a crush on Alex, he’s starting to fall in love – properly in love – with him, too. As a fellow public figure – a _male_ public figure – Alex is so unreachable, he might as well be on the moon. But Henry’s heart cannot be persuaded to let go.

He's twenty-two and in love with a sexy, funny, intelligent, _infuriating_ half-Mexican son of the POTUS, and it all really starts for him on New Year’s Eve, when he finally cannot take it another moment and he kisses Alex under the cold cloudy Washington skies.

Henry thinks twenty-two might be as far as he gets in life, that he’ll just die right now, and end the torture, but then three or four weeks later Alex kisses _him_ , and does inexpert but enthusiastic _other_ things to him, and _this_ is when it begins, when it properly begins, because now they’re a Thing, eagerly devouring each other like starving men at every opportunity, and Henry is falling more and more in love with Alex by the day, but it’s _fine_ because it’s just physical, and there’s no way Alex could love him back, even when they start calling each other pet names, like _sweetheart_ and _love_ and – the one that melts Henry’s heart every time, stupid though it is – _baby_.

But, no, he is twenty-three by the time he begins to suspect Alex loves him back. And he panics because that is _never_ going to work. Except ... it does. There’s a lot of hell to go through first, but at the end, there’s love and acceptance where it matters most, and fireworks, literal and emotional, and the key to the old house where it all began for Alex.

And Henry realizes at last that each day is a new beginning, a new opportunity to fall deeper in love, and – miraculously – be loved more deeply in return. There will be other beginnings for them, as they live and grow old together, hopefully raise a family and make their marks on the world, but for Henry, there’s only one that matters.

It all began when....

**Author's Note:**

> The author begins to bat her eyelashes at you, and implores you to consider leaving a comment. Concrit is fine, too - just be polite. :-)


End file.
